


My Love as Deep as the Boundless Sea

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: Charlie has no idea that her father, a kindly merchantman out of the Carolina's, is actually a pirate captain known only as "The Butcher," when she mistakenly stows away on a ship belonging to "Captain Monroe, Terror of the High Seas"
Relationships: Charlie Matheson/Bass Monroe
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

Charlie bit her lip at the sound of boots striking the planks of the deck above her. Pulling her legs tighter to her chest, she curled into a ball, hoping to make herself less visible where she was wedged between two barrels. She had to remain unseen until the ship was well underway. At that point, instead of turning around, the Captain would have no choice but to keep her aboard until his next destination. 

Just as she let herself relax, she heard a chorus of footsteps and the ship lurched as it was pushed away from the dock.

They were setting sail.

A wide smile broke out upon her face.

She was finally free.

* * *

Monroe stood on deck, nothing but clear blue sea and sky as far as the eye could see. This is why he sailed. Well, that and the gold that lined his pockets. He stood atop the forecastle watching as his men scurried about converting his ship back to _The_ _Republic_ instead of the lackluster merchant ship it had been in port, allowing them to hide in plain sight. 

Now, he was on course to track down  _ The Butcher _ . Captain of  _ The Rebellion _ . The man had been baiting him for months now and it was time to put an end to it. 

Marching down the steps to the deck below, the crew parted as he made his way through them. He had taken a prisoner while in Cardiff and the man was currently down in the hold awaiting his fate. 

Taking the stairs down to the crew’s quarters, he then made his way to the hold below, searching until he found the barrel with the red X. Unsheathing his cutlass to pry off the lid, he heard something from the corner of the hold. 

Monroe cursed under his breath. Damn rats. They ate his men’s provisions and carried diseases. Moving stealthily across the room, he heard the noise again coming from between two barrels in the corner. Lifting his cutlass, he stepped forward and swung the sword down.

* * *

When Charlie caught sight of the man entering the storeroom, she knew this was no merchant ship. 

That face was plastered on wanted posters all over England. Captain Monroe. Terror of the High Seas. He never took a prisoner he didn’t kill, was merciless in exacting revenge, and boldly took what he thought was his. 

He wasn’t a man that was likely to forgive a stowaway or leave her untouched. Her only hope was that their next stop got her that much closer to her father in the Carolinas. 

Sinking closer to the wall she tried to keep herself completely hidden but her efforts were in vain. He found her in seconds. Raising her hands to shield herself Charlie squeezed her eyes shut with an “Eep!” 

But the killing blow never came. Instead, the man cursed as his cutlass landed in the wood just inches from her head. 

Charlie gasped, sucking air into her lungs as her heart raced. 

“Have you a death wish?” He bellowed.

Charlie cringed as she dropped her hands, discovering his face mere inches from her own, his eyes narrowed in irritation. Reaching out, he grasped her wrists hauling her to her feet. Leaning so close to her, Charlie was sure he was going to kiss her. Instead, he leaned past her to yank his cutlass out of the wall. 

Taking a step back, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her. “I asked you a question,” he growled, tugging her hair to force her to look at him. “What are you doing on my ship?”

Charlie clamped her lips shut before a whimper could escape as the hold he had on her hair caused her eyes to water. Sucking a breath in through her nose, she licked her lips. “In my defense, I didn’t realize that this was your ship.”

He gave a light snort as he released her hair, raking his eyes up and down her body. “Well, whatever are we to do with you?”

Charlie straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “If you would be so kind as to drop me off at your next port, it would be kindly appreciated.” 

Monroe smiled as he began to laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Surely you’ve heard of Captain Monroe and The Republic?”

“The Republic, you say? Yes, that does sound familiar.”

His smile fell. “We are not a passenger ship.”

“No, I don’t suppose you are.” 

“Women are not allowed on board this ship and stowaways do not leave our ship unpunished.”

“Really?” she questioned breathlessly, bringing a hand up to her throat. “And just what did you have in mind?”

Reaching out, he stroked her cheek, causing her breath to hitch in her throat, every nerve in her body suddenly on fire. 

Monroe gave her another disarming smile. “Have no fear, young miss. Virgins are entirely too much work, and fortunately for you, I have other matters to attend to. Follow me.”

“No, thank you,” Charlie called out as he headed back the way he had come. 

Monroe slowly turned to glower at her. “I said, follow me, or I will send another down here who will make sure that you do.”

Charlie met his eyes and decided that this was not the time or place to take a stand. “Since you asked so nicely,” she replied with a tilt of her head.

With a shake of his head, he continued making his way through the hold, stopping at a barrel stamped with a red X. Charlie watched in fascination as he began to pull a full-grown man out of the barrel with a grunt. Waving her forward with his cutlass, he slapped the flat edge against her backside causing her to yelp. “Move,” he barked, pointing with his sword.

Charlie shot him a frown before making her way forward. 

So much for keeping her stupid to a minimum.

* * *

Monroe was grateful it didn’t take long to get to the deck. Between the swaying of the skirt in front of him and the weight on his shoulder, his good humor was quickly escaping him. 

When they finally reached the top, he heaved the man on his shoulder to the deck. 

Monroe rolled his eyes as the woman beside him exclaimed, her eyes going wide as a hand covered her mouth, now that she was getting a good look at him. That was why women weren’t allowed on board his ship. He had no patience for the vapors. Thankfully, she had the good sense to keep her mouth shut. 

“Uh, Captain? Where’d ya get the woman?” his first mate asked as most of the crew gathered round. 

“Stowed away in the hold,” he grunted as several of the men shook their heads. 

“But Captain,” young Micahel called out. “‘Tis bad luck to have a woman aboard.” 

“She’s nothing. Right now we have other matters to see to.”

Looking down, he took a step forward so that he was towering over the man that had been roused by a bucket of seawater. “Where’s The Butcher?”

“I don’t know nothing,” the man spat.

“You deny that you’re a member of his crew?” 

“I do!” the man protested. 

Monroe swung out with his sword severing two of the man’s fingers. 

As the man began to howl in pain, Monroe watched as the woman’s mouth tightened. 

“If you don’t want to lose another body part I suggest you talk,” Monroe growled. 

The man grimaced as he squeezed his hand. “He was off to Curacao the last I heard.” 

“And his hideout?”

“I don’t know!” The man cried out. 

Monroe stayed quiet simply staring at the man. 

“There’s a tiny island. Off the coast of Anguilla.” 

“Scrub Island?”

“Yes, yes that’s the one.” 

Monroe indicated the man should rise. “Jeremy,” he said with a nod, “go ahead and keelhaul him.” 

“What?” Charlie cried out. “You can’t! It’ll kill him!”

Monroe closed his eyes with a curse hoping that when he once again opened them she’d be gone. He was sadly disappointed when he opened them to find her still standing between him and Matheson’s man. He took a deep breath in through his nose as he counted to five. 

“Move, or you’ll be joining him,” he threatened. 

Charlie gasped her eyes going comically wide. “You wouldn’t!”

“I most certainly will if you continued to challenge me. Are you so eager to swim with a man who’s killed more men than you’ve ever known?”

Charlie glanced over her shoulder to see the man shrug in agreement. Ignoring him, she turned once more to Monroe using her eyes to plead with him. 

And damn if he didn’t have the urge to make her happy. What.the.fuck.

“If you don’t want to watch then turn around,” he growled. “Otherwise, you’ll stand witness and do it quietly. Jeremy! Finish this then bring her to my cabin.” Spinning on his heel, Monroe marched towards his cabin.

* * *

If she had eaten anything, Charlie was sure she would have been sick. As it was, bile rose to the back of her throat at what she had just witnessed. Did such atrocities occur on her father’s ship as well? She kept her eyes straight ahead as the one called Jeremy marched her down the deck, steering her in the same direction the Captain had taken. She assumed that was where his cabin was located as it had been on her father’s ship.

“Where exactly is our destination?” Charlie asked the man escorting her. 

“Do you think me stupid?” The man asked in return, eyeing her. 

Charlie tilted her head. “I suppose not. However, that doesn’t mean that we cannot have a genial conversation. After all, what difference does it make? It’s not like I can do anything about it.”

Jeremy’s lips quirked. “You’re a lively one arent you?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Charlie replied with a lift of her chin. 

The man snorted with a roll of his eyes. Guiding her down the stairs and underneath the helm, he knocked at a nondescript door.

“Come!” Monroe called from beyond. 

Giving her one last look, Jeremy swung the door open revealing the Captain’s quarters. 

Charlie’s eyes raced around the room taking in everything from the carpet on the floor to the plush hangings hiding the bed to the bookshelves filled with books and trinkets. It appeared to be quite comfortable and not at all what she expected. 

“What’s your name?” she heard him ask from where he stood looking out the row of windows that ran across the back of the room. 

“My name?” she squeaked in surprise.

“I assume you have one.”

“Charlotte,” she blurted out, jumping as Jeremy shut the door trapping her alone in the room with Monroe. A room that had suddenly become very small.

As he stalked towards her, Charlie held her ground. 

Much as he had earlier, he got right in her space before reaching around to drag a chair up behind her. “Sit and tell me why you're here.”

“I’d rather stand if it’s all the same to you,” she replied, her tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. 

Monroe pushed closer. 

Keeping her eyes locked on his, she sank down in the chair.

Dragging over another chair, he sat across from her as if they were in the finest parlor having tea. “I know what you’re thinking and it’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” he said eyeing her thoughtfully. “The only thing I don’t know is why you’re aboard my boat.”

“I’m looking for my father.”

“And you thought to do so from my ship?” He asked incredulously.

Charlie pursed her lips. “Would you like to hear my story or not?”

He remained silent, simply looking at her in a way that he thought to be intimidating. Charlie simply found it annoying. 

“As a child, I discovered that the man I thought was my father was my uncle and vice versa. When I wrote to my father, the captain of a merchant ship, begging him to come get me, he did. However, he returned me to my mother and uncle upon my thirteenth birthday with the reasoning that he would have me grow up to become a lady,” she explained, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

“And that was how long ago?” 

“Seven years ago. I’m twenty now.”

Monroe tilted his head as he studied her thoughtfully for a moment. “And just exactly how do you plan on searching out your father from my ship?”

“My Uncle is dead, my mother missing and my brother lost at sea. I have no money, nor anyone who would come to my aid. I thought to stow away on a ship and make my way to the Carolinas where he lives when not at sea. ”

“I see,” Monroe said, standing and placing his chair back in its proper place in front of his desk. ‘Well, unfortunately for you, we have a much more urgent stop than returning you to your father.”

“And where is that?” 

“Anguilla.  Come,” he said, crooking a finger at her as he walked around his desk. When she opened her mouth to speak he held up a hand. “I simply want to show you something. I promise not to touch you.”

With a jerky nod, Charlie rose to her feet and circled the desk to join him.    
  


“Come closer” he encouraged, laying a hand on the map in front of him. Once she had sidled up to the desk, he moved to stand just behind her. Leaning in, his chin hovered just over her shoulder, his mouth next to her ear. “Do you see where we are right now?”

Charlie nodded, turning her head slightly in his direction. 

“If our friend was correct, we now know where The Butcher will be next and it’s my sincerest wish to capture his treasure. It is, after all, what a man like him deserves.”

Charlie eyed him shrewdly. “Is it because you want his treasure or because you want to best him?”

Monroe shrugged. “Both. We’ve just left England and are sailing down the coast. We’ll stop in Spain for supplies before crossing the Atlantic to Anguilla. Now, I don’t want you on my ship so what I should do is leave you in Spain to make your own way to the Carolinas. Unfortunately, you know who we are and where we’re going, so I cannot in good conscience set you free anytime soon and it would be a shame to kill you."

Charlie sucked in a breath and took a step sideways so that she could turn to look at him.  “I won’t tell anyone,” she declared earnestly. 

With a pout, Monroe reached out to stroke her cheek. “That’s what they all say, Mon Cheri. No, I think the only solution is to have you remain among us for the time being.” 

Charlie’s mouth went dry. Did he honestly expect to keep her on this ship with all those men for weeks if not months and not expect any harm to come to her? Her only hope now was to escape when they stopped for supplies.  “Once we reach Anguilla you’ll allow me to leave?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Charlie cried.

Monroe took a step towards her, reaching out to rub a few strands of her hair in his fingers. “Maybe by then, I’ll like having you around.” 

“Stop that,” Charlie demanded, her chest heaving with his nearness.

“Excuse me, Mon Cherie?”

“I am not your Mon Cherie. My name is Charlotte or Charlie.”

“Charlotte has a nice ring, but I still prefer Mon Cherie,” he replied with a wicked grin before dropping her hair. “I’ll need to speak to Jeremy and the crew.”

She made to follow after him, but he turned and held up a finger. “You stay here, and try to stay out of trouble until I return.”

Charlie huffed as he shut the door behind him.

* * *

“What do you think Jeremy?”

“I don’t like it. A woman on the ship for the entire crossing is bad luck. And then there are the men.”

“I know,” Monroe replied, agreeing.

Jeremy rubbed a hand over his face. “She’ll have to stay locked in your cabin.”

Monroe blinked. When he had considered Charlotte being the object of lust for most of the men he hadn’t expected Jeremy to be one of them. Nor had he thought about having to be locked in the same cabin with her night after night. It would be torture no doubt, but, they had rules and rules were what had kept him alive for the last fifteen years.

* * *

The crew had voted that she could stay for now, with the understanding that no man could touch her, including the captain.

He had considered sleeping in a hammock with the rest of the crew, but that would leave Charlotte vulnerable should someone decide she was worth breaking the rules for. It was a pirate ship after all. 

Opening the door, he surprised her from where she hung off the bookshelf going through his things. With a gasp, she toppled to a heap on the deck. A teardrop-shaped pendant clutched in her hand. 

Strolling over, he took the pendant and returned it to its place in a small wooden chest. 

“What were you doing?” he asked, watching as she flushed a lovely shade of pink. 

“Snooping.”

“Snooping?”

Charlie shrugged as she hauled herself to her feet. “ You left me here all day! I was beginning to think you were going to let me perish from boredom.”

“There are worse ways to die,” Monroe replied as he stared at her bosom, the tumble having sent her dress all askew, leaving just the tips of her nipples poking out of her neckline. 

“You are insufferable,” she hissed, crossing her hands over her chest. 

Giving her a bawdy wink, he made his way over to the desk and took a seat to remove his boots. 

“Where am I to sleep?" Charlie asked, turning to face him once she had her gown set to rights. 

“The bed,” he replied, nodding at it with his head.

This time she turned a brilliant red. “And where are you going to sleep?”

Rising from his chair he made his way towards her lifting her chin with his finger. “Does it matter?”

“I’m a terrible sleeper,” she blurted out. “I toss and turn. I’ve even been told that I snore.” 

Monroe's stomach tightened wondering just how someone would know such intimate details about his guest. “I shall be sure to inform you in the morning if any of that is true,” he teased watching her eyes go wide, “for I shall be sleeping just there,” he explained, pointing to the other side of the room. 

Answering a knock at the door, Monroe let in two of the crew who were carrying a hammock between them. They strung it up in the corner and were on their way. 

“Thank you for your bed,” Charlie said once the door was closed. 

Monroe turned to watch her struggle into the high bed, her bottom waving in the air pertly before she tumbled onto the mattress.

When she reached for the curtains, Monroe stopped her. “They stay open.” 

"Aren't I allowed to have some privacy?”

“I told you I wouldn’t touch you. At least not until you beg me too, but I never said I wouldn’t look.”

“I would never beg you!” Charlie hissed in outrage as she turned her back to him throwing herself down on the bed. 


	2. Chapter 2

Charlotte tossed and turned for the longest time, only to find herself wrapped up in his scent and her gown. She hadn’t heard a peep out of him since he’d climbed in the hammock and the cabin was dark, the faintest hint of moonlight casting shadows. 

She had just sat up and begun to remove her gown when she heard his voice.

“Jeremy will fetch you new garments when we dock, but for now, as soon as that gown is off, cease your movements unless you want me to join you.” 

A shiver ran down Charlie’s spine and her thighs became damp at the thought of his weight pinning her to the bed.  _ Damn him _ she cursed under her breath, tugging the gown over her head. She couldn’t wait to arrive in Spain so that she could be off this ship and as far away from Monroe as possible.

* * *

Six days. Six tortuous days in which she thought she would lose her mind. She knew she had no choice but to escape. There was no way she would survive a journey locked in this cabin. All of her meals were brought to her, so the only time she had been allowed out was to use the captain’s private latrine. 

She had taken advantage of those trips by observing all she could in order to come up with an escape plan. 

She never saw Monroe during the day and she never saw him sleep. When the sun set each night she had little choice but to sleep because there was not enough light from his sole candle for the two of them to share. He would sit at his desk going over maps, drawings, and various books giving her little to no attention. 

Her saving grace was the boy they had guarding her. Michael was his name and he was only a few years younger than her. He had been ordered not to speak to her, but Charlie had finally worn him down. She had discovered that his brother, Peter, served under the captain as well, having joined when Monroe took the boat they had previously been serving on. 

He spoke highly of Monroe and Baker, insisting that they treated the men fairly and they were always rewarded handsomely with any loot they took. All the men were quite loyal according to him. 

After chatting with him for several days, Charlie knew he would not aid her in her escape.

* * *

Monroe joined Baker where he stood watching the shoreline come into view. They always took a chance of being captured when they pulled into a port on this side of the Atlantic making the atmosphere on deck tense. 

Their merchant disguise was usually successful but you never knew if today might be the day they were discovered. 

Baker had already inspected the crew and their wardrobe and had given coins to those crewmembers going ashore. They docked at the far end of the port, their flag having been replaced with the flying insignia of Britain. 

“You best be to your cabin,” Baker advised Monroe, looking around the docks. “Your face is well known about these parts.”

Into the cabin.

With her. 

The woman who had slept in little more than her chemise for the last six days. He knew now that she did in fact toss and turn in her sleep as well as snore as loudly as any of his men. 

Monroe gave a sharp nod turning to Baker. “Be quick about it,” he bit out. He didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary but still wanted them to get the men what they needed for the long voyage. 

“Michael,” Monroe greeted the young man standing outside his door. “How’s the wench?” he asked with a teasing wink, watching the boy’s cheek pinken under his scrutiny. 

“Bored but well. She’s currently in the latrine.” 

Monroe turned to look back down the hall. “Carry on then,” he replied, reaching for the door to his cabin when he heard an audible splash. 

He and the boy looked at each other stupidly for a moment before running down the hall to throw open the door to the latrine. It was empty. 

Monroe ran to the edge, looking out over the rail. Down below, he could see a head bobbing up and down in the water as pale arms flailed about her head. 

“Son of a bitch,” Monroe cursed. 

“Should I go in after her, Captain?” Michael asked. 

“Can you swim?”

“I can survive,” the boy admitted looking worriedly at the woman in the water. “Um, Captain, I think the lady is drowning.”

Monroe rolled his eyes as he stuck his head back over the rail, while Michael looked on worriedly. 

“You are going to save her aren't you?”

Monroe snorted. If he had to guess it was her skirts that were weighing her down.

“God damn it,” he finally muttered with a sigh, pulling off his boots and throwing them on the deck. Climbing up on the rail he dived into the water.

* * *

Charlie had spent much of the last week envisioning her escape over and over again. 

This, however, didn’t look anything like it. 

She hadn’t counted on the choppy seas, the width of the boat, and most especially, the weight of her skirts. 

She continued to make the motions just like Miles had taught her all those years ago but the fabric kept pulling her down. It was either the dress or her and she refused to give Monroe the satisfaction of her death. 

Taking a deep breath, she began to sink as she fought with the buttons. She managed one and struggled to make it back to the surface to gasp another breath, dismayed to see that she was even further away from shore than she was before. With a sob, she knew she’d never make it, even if she did manage to get her skirts off. 

She had just gone under once again when a strong arm wrapped around her waist, hauling her to the surface where she gulped in a lungful of air. The arm disappeared from her waist leaving only a hand and then suddenly her skirts were gone and she could finally swim. 

“Not so fast,” Monroe growled in her ear, clamping his arm around her middle once again. Holding her atop of him as he rolled to his back, he used his free arm to propel them towards the ship.

Not a word was exchanged till they reached the ship and one of the men threw down a length of rope. 

“On my back,” he ordered. 

Charlie looked down as if she could see her missing skirts under the water. “I will not!” she replied in outrage.

“I.said.on.my.back.NOW!” he ground out, grasping onto her bicep to keep her from swimming away. 

Giving a sharp nod of her head, she swam around him until she could wrap her arms around his neck. “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary,” she muttered as she brought her bare legs up to straddle his waist as he began to haul them upwards.

When they reached the rail, Monroe deposited her upon the deck as if she were nothing but a bag of flour.

Looking up, Charlie saw Michael standing nearby, a disappointed look on his face, but before she could process those thoughts Monroe was bellowing at her. “What in the hell did you think you were doing?”

She tried to answer him but when she opened her mouth, water came spewing out onto the deck as her stomach rolled. 

Monroe huffed, ordering someone to clean it up, and then picked Charlie up, tossing her over his shoulder as he hauled her back to his cabin. 

An exhausted Charlie could only manage a shuddering sob at the thought of being locked up once again. 

Reaching his cabin, Monroe dumped Charlie unceremoniously onto the bed before repeating his question. 

“What in the hell were you doing?”

Scrambling off the bed, Charlie stood her ground. “Surely it’s obvious even to you that I was attempting to escape.” 

“Attempting suicide is more like it. If it were not for me you would have drowned.” 

“Perhaps I prefer drowning to staying here in this prison with you!” 

Monroe raked his eyes over her. “No. You’re the type of woman that wants to live life to the fullest.” 

“Not if it means sitting here alone and locked up day after day. I stowed away because I love the sea! I love to sail! I love the wind in my hair and the sun on my face but you’ve taken that away from me. Please, Monore! Please just let me out!" She sobbed, her entire body trembling from cold and frustration.” 

Monroe crossed his arm, looking down at her. “There’s no crying on this ship! Do you know why that is? Because women aren't allowed on this ship!” 

“Then why did you rescue me?”

_ Why Indeed _ Monroe thought. He’d been asking himself the same thing since he reached down to pull off his boots. Unfortunately, he didn't know. Instead, he reached out and pulled her against his chest. 

“What are you doing? Charlie asked in muffled consternation. 

“Trying to warm you up. You’re freezing.”

Taking a deep breath Charlie shuddered as she relaxed against him. “I thought I was going to die.” 

Monroe held her tighter. “I understand the feeling.”

Without thinking, Charlie grasped his shirt, pulling him down to her. “Thank you,” she whispered, pressing her lips against his. 

Monroe assumed that the kiss was meant to be chaste. A simple thing showing affection. But Monroe didn’t want her affection. He wanted her. 

As she began to pull away from him, Monroe pulled her back, one arm wrapping around her so that she was pressed flush to his body. 

He wasn’t gentle with her as he crushed his mouth against hers, forcing her lips open. 

He was surprised when her arms lifted to encircle his neck and her tongue brushed eagerly against his own. 

Her unexpected passion excited him and he pushed her back towards the bed, lifting her to sit on the edge so that he could explore her thoroughly. 

Seating himself firmly between her legs, his lips left hers to nip and lick his way down her throat. 

“Monroe,” Charlie moaned breathlessly bucking against his hips, a hand holding his head close. 

Reaching into her gown. Monroe lifted her breasts free of her bodice, cupping the soft mounds in his rough hands, thumbing the nipples.

Kissing away her pout as he released one of her breasts, he reached down to push aside the remaining cloth of her skirts, his hand skimming up her thigh only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. 

Charlotte whined. 

“Captain? The men are back,” Baker called from the door. 

Monroe pushed away from Charlie with a curse as he looked at her sprawled out and half-dressed, skin flushed with want. 

“Cover yourself,” he ordered harshly, watching as she scrambled to hide behind the bed curtains, before striding to the door, straightening his damp clothes. 

“Is all well?” Monroe asked, allowing Baker entrance.

“Nothing to report. The men are just finishing loading everything up and I’ve brought the lass her clothes. I heard she went overboard?”

“I was attempting to escape!” Charlie called from behind the curtains. 

Jeremy’s laugh morphed into a snort as Monroe sent him a glare. 

“Well, seems as though all is well now.”

This time it was Charlie's turn to snort. “I hardly think that all could be considered well.”

Monore sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be up on the deck shortly,” he informed Baker. “Make sure we’re ready to sail as soon as the last of the provisions is on board.”

“I’ll see to it. And Captain? You might want to handle your, uh, situation. I’d hate for the crew to get any ideas,” he laughed, dashing out the door.

“Is he gone?” Charlie asked, poking her head out.

“Yes. There are new gowns for you,” he said, waving an arm at the desk as he turned his back to her, trying to get his body under control. 

“I'd like to come on deck.”

“No.”

“Please? Just for a bit? I need some fresh air and sun.”

“I said no.”

“Fine. I shall just find another way then.”

Somehow he didn’t doubt that she would. “Next time you go overboard I won’t save you,” he warned her before marching out the door.

* * *

They had been at sea for several hours when the cry of “Ship in the distance!” sounded from the crow’s nest. 

Taking the spyglass that was handed to him, Monroe quickly spotted the ship giving chase. 

“Damnit,” Monroe exclaimed. “It’s another pirate ship. Keep on eye on it,” Monroe ordered the man next to him, handing over the spyglass as he called for Baker.

They quickly called their men together explaining the situation before putting it to a vote. “We run or we fight. Which will it be?”

He was not surprised by the sound of their battle cry.

* * *

Charlie didn’t know what to think of all the noise on the deck above her head as the boat slowly began to turn. Hurrying over to the windows to get a better look, she spotted a ship in the distance.

Turning the ship around could only mean one thing. They were preparing to attack. She began a frantic search for a weapon. When the door swung open with a thud, Charlie turned from a chest she was currently rooting through. “Monroe! What’s happening?”

“We’re getting ready to fight. You stay inside this cabin, no matter what, do you understand?” 

Charlie took another look out the windows. “I need a weapon to protect myself.” 

“Agreed,” he said, removing his cutlass and handing it to her. 

“I don’t suppose you have a pistol as well do you?”

“And take a chance of you shooting one of my crew? No thank you. Now stay here!” he repeated, grasping her shoulders to kiss her soundly before leaving the cabin without another word. 

_ Well. How about that?  _ Charlie thought, reaching up to touch her lips.

* * *

Sitting in a chair she had turned towards the door, Charlie’s heart was pounding in her ears nearly as loud as the cannons that shook the ship. 

The cannons continued to sound until suddenly, she was thrown from her seat, landing in a heap upon the floor. The entire ship rocked telling her that the ships had finally met. The only question was, who was boarding who? Pushing herself to her feet, Charlie listened to the shouts and cries that mingled with the sounds of pistols firing and blades clanking. 

She was peering out through the window when the door burst open. Spinning around, she held the cutlass out in front of her. 

“Well, aren’t you a young thing,” the blood-drenched pirate purred, causing Charlie to realize it was a woman standing across from her. “I think you’d make the perfect gift for my captain.” 

“I don’t think so,” Charlie replied. 

“So you’re Monroe's bitch then.”

“I’m no one’s bitch,” Charlie huffed.

“More's the pity,” the woman said, licking her lips. “Come along now.”

“I’ll stay here, thank you very much.” 

“I wasn’t asking,” the woman replied, reaching out to grasp Charlie’s arm, twisting it around her back. 

Charlie lost her grip on the cutlass and it swung down against her skirts where she had attached it to the end of Monroe's belt, wrapped around her waist.

The woman hauled Charlie down the hall and up the stairs to the main deck which was surprisingly devoid of bodies, however, looking up and across, she discovered it was because they were all on the other ship, where the men battled fiercely. 

“Grab on!” the woman shouted, shoving a rope into Charlie’s hand as she wrapped an arm around her waist, swinging them over the water to the enemy’s ship. 

The woman picked Charlie up from where she had fallen to the deck and began weaving her way through the chaos. 

Looking around wildly for anyone that she recognized, Charlie spotted Baker and began to scream his name. 

Looking up from where he was battling another man, Baker took one look at her and the woman next to her and pushed the man he was fighting away, racing across the deck towards her. 

Seeing him coming, the woman pulled Charlie in front of her, using her as a human shield. With a long-suffering sigh, Charlie dropped to her already bruised rump. Baker took the opportunity to sink his cutlass into the woman's stomach and she fell to the deck beside Charlie. 

Reaching down, Jeremy hauled Charlie to her feet. “Come along, Lass. Monroe won’t be happy if he sees you out here.” 

Charlie nodded, following along behind the large man as he fought their way to the railing, but it wasn’t long before he was once again engaged in battle. Looking around, Charlie realized she was beginning to draw attention. She was either going to have to hide or return to the boat on her own. 

When someone grabbed her from behind, Charlie cried out. Without thinking twice she turned and swung with her cutlass. Blood went spewing as the man reached for his throat and slowly dropped to his knees in front of her. 

Scrambling backward, Charlie looked around wildly. There were still skirmishes taking place but not as many as earlier. There had been a call to surrender, but the pirates who had taken notice of her by the rail, either didn’t hear or didn't care. 

Holding her bloody cutlass out in front of her, Charlie stood her ground, slashing out at them as they approached her, blood flowing as she got in a few good licks before she was grabbed from behind by two beefy arms.  Charlie struggled, refusing to be taken without a fight. 

Suddenly, she was released, stumbling forward. She looked up from her hands and knees to see the men that had been surrounding her, backing away. Slowly, Charlie turned her head to discover Monroe standing over the body of the man that had been holding her. He looked murderous with his shirt ripped and hair tangled, blood dripping from the double swords he held. 


	3. Chapter 3

Monroe had taken the ship that had been paid by the Spaniards to chase him down and gave the crew the choice. 

Join him or walk. 

They joined.

It was as he was eyeing the deck that he saw Charlotte pressed up against a man he didn't recognize, and several others surrounded them.

He had been enraged at the thought of her being taken from him. She was his, damnit, and he would allow no one to touch one hair on her head. 

He hadn’t blinked an eye as he killed the man holding her and eyed the rest. 

“Come here, Charlotte. Now.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes in annoyance but scampered her way behind him.

Feeling her hand on his shirt, Monroe barked out “Baker, see to this crew!”

Then without warning, he bent, grasping her knees to haul her over his shoulder. 

Charlie struggled in his grasp. “What in the devil do you think you're doing?” she screeched, only to have him smack her bottom. 

Taking hold of a rope, he swung back across to his ship. 

“I’m rescuing you. Again. Is it not obvious?” he asked, depositing her on his bed, taking in her appearance. Her dress was ripped and bloodied, her cutlass gone but most of all there was fear in her eyes. 

“I didn’t need rescuing!” she protested, pushing to her knees 

Monroe frowned, still livid at what had almost happened. “I told you not to leave this cabin!”

“You think I left by choice? One of their crew found me and drug me over there! A woman no less!”

“A woman?”

“Yes.”

“Redhair?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“That was Duncan Paige of The Clan. I wonder how she ended up here. You killed her?” he asked, waving at her bloodied gown.

Charlie made a face. “No, of course I didn’t kill her. Baker did.”

“So that’s your blood?”

“No,” Charlie replied, looking away from him, swaying slightly. “A man grabbed me. I slit his throat.”

Monroe’s face softened. For him, this was just another Monday. Chances were, she had never seen a dead body before. 

Making his way towards her, Monroe lifted her chin with a finger till she was looking at him. “I will not kiss you unless you kiss me first.”

“No?” She asked softly, her lips but a breath away. 

“No,” he replied with a shake of his head, “but I cannot remember the last time I wanted a woman so badly.” Leaning back, she met his eyes for a moment, searching for what, he did not know.

Seemingly satisfied with what she found, she grasped hold of his shirt and closed the distance between their lips, kissing him with more passion than Monroe thought she was capable of. 

It shocked him to his very core. 

Emotions already running high from the battle, Monroe wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her up so that she was straddling him.

Turning her towards his desk, Monroe walked her over, placing her bottom on its surface before cupping her cheeks to tilt her head to give him better access to her inexperienced mouth. 

His stomach clenched at the tiny mewls escaping her mouth, making his blood singing with desire. Releasing her face, his hands moved to her waist, sliding up her sides until he reached her bodice which he gripped, ripping it down the center. 

Charlie gasped at the action but then exhaled in pleasure as he palmed her breasts, thumbing her nipples all the while nipping at her lips. 

Responding in kind, Charlie pushed his nearly shredded shirt off his shoulders until they were both naked to the waist. Her fingers trailed softly over his tanned skin, a direct contrast to hers; so soft and pale, he could see the veins under her skin. 

He was surprised when she reached for the fasting to his breeches, expecting her to be shy and hesitant. He should have known better.

“Oh,” she breathed, as he sprang free and she hesitantly reached out to touch him, her fingers exploring his cock until she was stroking him with her palm. He groaned, bucking against her like a young boy. 

Refusing to let her first time be a quick rut on his desk, he picked her up, carrying her back to the bed. Crawling up after her, he tugged her ruined gown the rest of the way off, leaving her bare before him. 

As his eyes raked over her, he realized that she was beginning to reach for the silk sheet to cover herself. Grasping her ankle, Monroe stopped her moments as he tugged off his boots sending them sailing to some unknown point in the room causing her to giggle. Losing his breeches, he crawled across the bed hovering over her. 

“You know the rules, Charlotte. If you want me, you have to beg.”

“You're a bastard,” Charlie hissed.

“The biggest,” he agreed.

Charlie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“Please,” she said, opening her eyes to meet his own. 

Bass shook his head. “Louder.”

“Please!” 

“That a girl,” he rumbled next to her ear, pushing her chin to the side with his thumb as he licked, nipped, kissed, and sucked his way down her neck, across her collarbone to her breasts and stomach, his thumbs circling her hip bones as dipped his head down to taste her. 

He had to grasp hold of her hips to keep her on the bed as he pleasured her with his mouth, tongue, and fingers. When she came, he lapped at her like a cat with cream before rising up over her, slipping the head of his cock into her entrance. 

Her eyes went wide. “Monroe.”

“Shhh,” he calmed her. “You were made to fit me. Mon Cheri.” 

Pushing in further until he felt her barrier, he grabbed a hip in one hand as the other supported his weight. Holding himself still he kissed her until she began moving underneath him before plunging in the rest of the way. 

Her eyes flew open as a gasp escaped her mouth. 

“That is the worst of it, Mon Cheri,” he assured her, kneading the fleshy globe of her ass as he rocked his pelvis against hers, applying just the right amount of pressure against her. Before long, she was copying his movements. It was only then that he began to pump in and out of her, introducing her to the pleasures of his bed. He made sure that she came one more time before pulling out and spilling his seed on her stomach.

* * *

Charlie lay on the bed watching Monroe as he quickly washed and dressed in fresh clothing. 

Now that the lust-filled hazed from earlier had passed, all she could think of was how disappointed her father would be. 

“Is the ship damaged?” she asked, laying back on the bed.

“Yes. The men will have already started repairs. I need to get out there and see what all needs to be done.”

He stilled for a moment, his back still turned to her. 

“This shouldn't have happened.” 

“No,” Charlie sighed, “it most certainly shouldn’t have. But perhaps,” she said, as he turned to look at her, “we could do it again.” 

Monroe shrugged. “I suppose if nothing else, I shall enjoy sleeping in my own bed again.”

* * *

Monroe was surly as he saw to the repairs and transferring crew over to the newly acquired ship that would eventually slow them down due to its damage. 

Eventually, he made his way to Baker's side. 

“All's well with the lass?” Baker asked, “She wasn’t hurt?” 

“She’s fine,” Monroe replied. 

“Well, she certainly looks well,” Baker smirked, looking over Monroe’s shoulder. 

Monroe followed Baker's gaze to see Charlotte emerge upon the deck. All activity stopped as the men got their first good look at her. 

“She's sweet as a peach, that one. Appears as though the gown I purchased is a bit tight,” he observed. “Not that I mind.”

“Enough,” Monroe growled before marching across the deck.

Charlie was speaking with Michael, and his brother Peter, who was introducing her to other members of the crew when he grasped her by the arm and spun her around. 

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?”

“I’m getting some air,” she explained, smiling sweetly at the men. 

“Not to worry Captain, we’ll look out for her,” Michael interjected, Peter and the other men nodding earnestly behind her. 

Monroe frowned. He suspected that this was his punishment for leaving her in his bed so abruptly.

“We’ll speak of this later,” he finally bit out, eyeing each of his men. 

“I look forward to it,” she replied with a smile and a tilt of her head.

* * *

Charlie waited for Monroe in the chair behind his desk, wearing nothing but her chemise. When he finally entered the cabin, he slammed the door shut before stomping his way across the cabin. 

“My aren't we cranky.”

“You went against my wishes,” he ground out. 

“I am your prisoner no more. I will come and go from this cabin as I please.” 

“I cannot look out for you every moment. I have other responsibilities.” 

“Then if something happens, it’s my own fault.” 

Tugging his boots off, Monroe dropped them to the floor and then tossed his belt and cutlass on top of them, along with a pistol.

Charlie stood as he crossed the room towards her. Stopping in front of her, he ran his eyes up and down her body, the thin chemise leaving little to the imagination. 

Reaching out, Charlie pulled his shirt out of his pants, helping him pull it over his head as she pressed herself up against him, tilting her face towards him. 

With a groan, Monroe pressed his lips to hers, grasping her thighs to set her on the edge of his desk as they both frantically reached for his breeches. 

She cried out in pleasure as he surged forward, entering her in one thrust, taking her right there on his desk.

* * *

Monroe was not happy that Charlie wandered the ship freely, and told her in no uncertain terms that if she fell overboard or was attacked by any of the crew, it wouldn’t be him that saved her very pretty bottom. 

She had simply agreed, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

She spent most of her time on deck with the brother’s Peter and Michael, and a few of the other younger men in his crew, but her nights were spent with Monroe who always left her satisfied even if he did refuse to hold her afterward. 

“How did you become a pirate?” she asked him one night. 

“My family had died and there was no one to take me. I worked on the docks doing odd jobs. One of the captains took a liking to me. Took me under his wing and showed me the ropes. I never looked back.”

Propped up on one elbow Charlie looked down at him. “What is your name, Monroe.”

He looked at her as if she were daft. 

Charlie rolled her eyes. “I mean your given name.”

“No one ever calls me by that name.” 

“But you do have one?”

“Yes.”

“Then what is it?”

“Sebastian. Sebastian Monroe. My family called me Bass.”

With a smile she fluffed her pillow, lying her head as close to his shoulder as she dared. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”

* * *

Monroe stood at the rail, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the dark clouds begin to roll in. 

“We’ve been in worse,'' Baker commented, joining him.

“Aye, we have. Turn us around and prepare the sails.” 

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Baker replied, turning on his heel to carry out Monroe’s orders. 

It wasn't long before Charlotte appeared next to him, her skirts whipping in the winds. “It's a deadly kind of beautiful isn't it?” she asked, looking up at him. 

“Charlotte,” he said just loud enough for her to hear him.

“I know. In your cabin.”

“It's the safest place for you. But, if you should see water, you’ll need to come above and tie yourself to the ship. Look for me if it comes to that.” 

Eyes wide with fright, she nodded bravely. 

He had never met a woman with such an air of innocence, but yet a daring sense of adventure. It made him want to wrap her in his arms to keep her safe and protected as only he could. 

But that wasn't possible. They would get through this storm and make it to Anguilla, dropping her off before going after The Butcher. Then she would be out of his hair and out of his life. 

“Come along,” he said softly, taking her by the arm and leading her to the cabin where Michael was waiting by the door with a length of rope. 

“What’s that for?” Charlie asked as he closed the door behind him. 

Remaining silent, he picked her up and set her on the bed before tying one end of the rope to the bedpost, wrapping the rope around her waist and then the other end to the other bedpost. 

“Is this really necessary?” she asked. 

“So help me God, Charlotte, the only reason I better see you up on that deck is because we're sinking,” he threatened before striding from the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Standing out in the hallway, Bass stewed for a moment before bursting back into the room. Stalking to the bed, he cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deep and hard. Then without a word, spun on his heel and left the room to join his crew, cursing the entire time.

* * *

Charlie groaned as she lay on the bunk fighting the sea sickness that came with stormy seas, all the while considering Monroe’s goodbye kiss. What it meant she had no idea, only that she very much wanted him to survive this storm. She prayed that they would all survive the storm but decided that God must be laughing at her when the ship tilted so far to the right, she thought they had begun to capsize as water trickled in under the door. 

“Oh, no,” she breathed as the ship straightened and tilted to the left. She closed her eyes as the contents not tied down became flying missiles.

* * *

Tied to the rail, Monroe wasn’t at all sure they were going to survive this storm. It was worse than any he’d seen before. He could barely see through the wind, rain, and sea water pelting him relentlessly. 

The crew struggled to keep the ship moving at an angle through the waves. He screamed to be heard over the storm, offering encouragement to his men. He knew that if they could just hang on a little bit longer, they would be free of it. He held on tightly as another wave came washing over them. As soon as he could, he looked around making sure his men were still with him and they were. 

His thoughts momentarily turned to Charlotte. When he had tied her to his bed, he hadn't thought about anything but her safety. He never once gave thought to his belongings that littered the cabin becoming projectiles. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about now. The only thing any of them could do was to hold on and hope the ship stayed upright.

* * *

The moment the storm subsided enough to safely untie himself from the rail, Monroe briefly checked on his crew and condition of the ship before heading down to check on Charlotte. 

He turned the knob and moved his arm to swing the door open but it didn’t budge. He tried again with the same results. If the table had become wedged against the door it would be nearly impossible to budge. 

“Charlotte!” He called out, becoming desperate when she didn't respond. 

“Charlotte!” He called louder. 

When she still didn't respond, he lifted his foot and began to kick at the door, finally shifting the table enough to get his fingers wrapped around the door, then a foot, pushing the table out of the way of the door.

Bursting into the room, Monroe went straight to the bed where Charlotte lay unmoving. “Sweet Jesus,” he breathed, lifting her against his chest. That’s when he saw the blood on the pillow. 

Leaning her away from him, he saw the gash across her upper forehead. Pressing his ear to her mouth, he felt her light breathing against his skin. Holding her tighter, he grasped her chin begging her to wake. 

When her eyes fluttered open, he could tell it took a moment for her eyes to focus on him. 

“Jesus, Charlotte, are you all right?”

“I-I think so,” she groaned with a wince, bringing a hand to her head. Laying her gently back down, Monroe quickly untied her from the bedposts before gathering her on his lap, inspecting her for any other injuries. 

“Does anything else hurt?” he asked.

“No, I don't think so. You, however, look a bit worse for wear,” she replied, pushing his wet curls back off his forehead as the rest of his clothing soaked through her skirts. 

Looking down at her, Monroe felt a warmth start deep in his chest and travel through his body. 

“Captain! Captain come quick!!’

Monroe cursed, setting Charlie on her feet as he followed the man up the stairs and onto the deck, Charlie trailing behind. 

“Over here,” Baker called out when Monroe appeared on deck. 

“What is it?” Monroe asked, striding towards where he stood near the rail. 

Baker pointed towards the horizon. “Land.” 

Monroe looked at the shadow in the distance. “Great. But what land?”

“Anguilla.”


	4. Chapter 4

Charlie heard the words before she saw the island itself. 

Anguilla. Their destination. This is where she would be separated from captain, crew, and ship, left to find her own way to the Carolinas. 

Monroe turned and met her eyes. For a moment she thought she saw something but then his eyes shuttered and he turned away. 

“Where are we?” she asked as if she hadn’t heard Baker announce their position. 

“The sailing master believes we were blown just east of the Leeward Islands. A bit further North West and well be in Anguilla.”

“Where you’ll leave me.”

“Yes”

Charlie looked down at her hands, twisting them together in front of her. 

“No more stowing away Charlotte,” Monroe said softly. “I’ll make sure you have enough coin to make your way to the Carolina’s.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” she murmured. 

“Maybe not, but I will.” 

“Captain,” Baker said. “Are you sure we should leave Miss Charlotte in Phillipsburg? It’s mighty rough for a port town.”

“Miss Charlotte chose to stow away. The fact that she received free passage across the Atlantic should be thanks enough. We’ll ensure that she is well provided for and able to travel the rest of the way on her own.”

Baker gave Charlie a shrug.

Well. At least she knew where she stood. 

“We’ll leave you at dawn,” Monroe announced turning back towards her. “Peter and Michael will take you ashore, find you a proper berth, and then return to us. Understood?” He asked, looking at the two boys. 

They both nodded. 

“I’d best be packing my things then,” Charlie said turning from them, and all but running down the steps to the Captain’s cabin so they wouldn’t see her cry. 

Reaching Monroe’s cabin, she realized she didn’t have anything to pack. The only thing she had brought on board with her was an extra gown and some toiletries. 

Basically. She had nothing and no one.

* * *

Monroe knew he had been a bit heavy-handed and guilt plagued him as he followed the path down the stairs to his cabin. 

Slowly, he pushed open the door to his cabin. 

His heart nearly broke as he observed her sitting on his bunk, hunched over her small bag. All but one of the dresses Baker had bought her were folded neatly and place near a corner of his desk.

“Charlotte?” he asked, but only received a sniffle in reply. 

“I’m sorry that you thought this was more than it was,” he said, his heartbreaking even as he did. He was not the man she could make a life with and most certainly not the man she deserved. Perhaps she would find a merchant like her uncle in Carolina. “But you knew what you were getting yourself into when you invited me into your bed,” he continued. “We enjoyed each other’s company and now it’s time to go our separate ways, Cherie.” 

Charlie raised her chin, refusing to look at him. “When do we arrive? 

“In a few hours. At dawn, Michael and Peter will take you to shore. Would like my company tonight?”

“No, thank you,” Charlie managed to get out. “I will be fine alone.” 

“Very well. I’ll call you when it’s time.” Gripping the door he took a long at her slender neck and straight back before closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

He never returned to his room and when it came time for her to leave, he stayed across the deck, letting Baker take her hand to help her into the rowboat. Their eyes caught and held one last time as the boat disappeared beneath the rail. 

And then she was gone

Baker joined him at the helm as they watched Peter and Michael row towards shore. “Must have been a difficult decision to send her away.” 

“She was a fool to have stowed away.” 

“Lucky for her you were the one who found her. Will you be able to forget her.” 

Monroe snorted. “What other choice is there?”

“There’s the choice to be selfish for the first time in a very long time. She’s a good woman. One who would give you everything if you only asked.” 

“Enough,” Monroe replied gruffly. “It’s time to go after The Butcher.” He had no desire to talk about the fact that she had taken just as much as she had given. She had given affection and had shown him what it meant to have someone care for him and in the end, had stolen his heart.

* * *

“I can stay with you, Miss,” Michael had offered. “Peter and I can even come with you if you wish.”

“That’s very kind of you Michael, but your place is with your brother aboard The Republic.” 

“But so is yours!” He blurted out. 

Charlie shook her head. “The Captain no longer wishes to have me aboard.” 

“The Captain doesn’t know what he wants.” 

Charlie smiled at the boy’s exuberance. “Thank you, Michael, for everything you’ve done. I wish you both well.” 

Seeing the boys off, Charlie turned to look at the town in front of her. What she needed now was a drink. 

Making her way inside the nearest tavern, Charlie didn’t miss the many stares pointed her way as she entered. Asking for a glass of rum she took a seat at the bar, perching upon a stool as conversations ebbed and waned around her once more. Monroe would probably tell her this was no place for a girl like her, but he had made it clear she was no longer his burden to bear. As she sat there thinking about her own situation, she heard men at a nearby table mention Monroes’ name. 

Scooting her stool a bit closer in that direction Charlie leaned as discreetly as she could in order to listen to their conversation. 

Charlie’s breath caught as she listed to how The Butcher had set Monroe up. The man they had thrown overboard that the first day had been paid to give him false information and now the blackguard lay in wait for The Republic. Clutching her throat with her hand, Charlie couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to Monroe. Paying for her drink she rushed out of the tavern.

* * *

Monroe and his men silently approached the island in the rowboat. 

Do you think they can see us, Michael whispered from his spot next to Monroe. “If we can see them they can see us, however, if anyone is present, they appear to be well hidden.” 

In coordinated movements, the six men lept from the boat and tied it to a large rock on the shore before venturing forward, all of them armed to the teeth. 

The Butcher’s man had said that the hideaway was around the first outcropping of rock. They could have rowed right up to it but that would take all the fun out of it, so decided to approach stealthily on foot. 

He motioned his men forward with a quick flick of his fingers and they began to creep forward, Monroe in the lead. Inching his way around the rock expecting darkness, instead, he found dozens of pirates awaiting him. 

Suddenly a bonfire blazed to life as The Butcher stood grimly facing him, a hand on each hip as Monroe stepped out into the light. 

“Monroe!” The Butcher bellowed. 

Making his way forward, Monroe meets the man in the middle, both of them smiling widely as they clasp their hands together. 

“Miles.” 

“Bass. I wondered if you’d take the bait.” 

“It’s been far too long my friend.” 

“Indeed it has. Well, what are you waiting for men! Break out the rum! Our friends are thirsty!”

With much laughter on each side, the men came together.

* * *

Night had fallen and the sky was cloudless but Charlie could still make out the ship as she sailed after them in the small sloop she had hired by cashing in her ticket north. She could also see torches upon the island’s shore just beyond. Urging the man faster, she only hoped she was in time.

* * *

As Charlie fought her way through the brushy foliage and rocky shale of the island, she inadvertently stumbled across several men well into their cups. 

She turned and ran. 

She hadn’t gotten very far when she was grabbed from behind by a strong arm wrapping around her waist. “Well, well what have we here?”

“Let me go!” 

“Should we take you to the Captain or have you here?”

“Best take her to The Butcher,” the other man said. “The captain wouldn’t be pleased if he knew we’d held out on him.” 

With a grunt of agreement, they started down the beach even as Charlie struggle to get free of the brute holding her captive. 

Dragged into the light, Charlie fell to her knees as the man finally let her go, presenting her to his captain like a cat with a bird. Everything seemed to go silent as Charlie looked up into the eyes of her father. 

“Charlie?” He asked even as Bass threw his bottle down, rushing to her side. “Charlotte! Are you alright? What are you doing here?”

She can’t take her eyes from her father’s, as Monroe helps her to her feet. 

“Father?”

“Father?” Bass repeated, looking up at Miles. 

“You son of a bitch, that’s my little girl!” Miles bellowed, hitting Bass’s jaw so hard he knocked him down. 

“You’re The Butcher?” Charlie asked wide-eyed as she looked between her father and her prone lover. “And the two of you know each other?” “You were going to kill him!” she accused Monroe. 

Monroe held his hands up in a calming motion as he climbed to his feet. “Now, now, Mon Cherie, I never said that I wanted to kill him." 

“But that’s what you implied!” Charlie accused, swinging her cutlass at the two of them. 

“This is but a game we play, sweetheart,” her father said.

“And you,” she hissed in Miles direction, “ What were you thinking of taking me sailing with you? I could have been killed!” 

Miles looked at Bass with a tilt of his head. “I suppose you gave her the sword?”

“She wanted a pistol!” Bass replied, turning towards him. 

“She knows how to handle a pistol because I taught her!” 

“Uh, Captain’s?” Baker said interrupting their fighting as he pointed in the direction Charlie was currently stalking. 

Looking in the direction he pointed, Bass and Miles looked back towards each other, Miles rolling his eyes with a huff as he jerked his head in her direction. 

Running after her, Bass, caught up rather quickly, grasping her by the upper arm and spinning her around, so that she rested against his chest. 

“What did you think you were doing, Cherie? You could have gotten yourself killed.” Monroe said, reaching up to brush her tears away with his thumb.

Charlie reached up with her free hand pounding his chest with a sob as she explained what she had overheard, convinced that he was sailing to his death.

“But I am a Pirate,” he replied as exasperated as he was enamored. Grasping her face in his hands, he kissed her senseless. “You could have been taken,” he whispered against her lips when he finally broke their kiss. 

“I didn’t care as long as you got away,” she whispered. 

Monroe pressed his lips to her forehead. “Now that you’ve found your father what will you do?”

“You’re an idiot,” Charlie murmured, pressing her lips against his jaw. “I didn’t come here to save my father. I came here to save you, Sebastian. I love you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I agree, but I do.”

“I love you as well, Charlotte,” Bass said before pressed his lips against hers once again. “You’re the one treasure I’ll never share.”


End file.
